Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
He averted his gaze, and moments of silence went by. Finally, he grunted. “Fine. But don’t ever expect more custom from me.” With that, he barged down the path and exited the yard, slamming the gate closed behind him.
Shutting the front door, Wynter whirled on Delilah. “You did it again? Seriously? I told you not to sell any more of those damn potions.”
Delilah frowned. “Can I help it that karma chooses to flow through me to do its work?”
Wynter snorted. “Karma hasn’t chosen you to do shit. This has nothing to do with balancing the scales of justice—”
“It is absolutely about justice. My family follows the teachings of Annis. I know you don’t think much of her because of some of her … darker deeds, but she was strong and powerful and ballsy and beautiful.”
Anabel frowned. “Didn’t she have one eye, crooked teeth, and bluish skin?”
Delilah stared at the blonde for a long moment. “Beautiful on the inside.”
Wynter scrubbed a hand down her face. “Look, I understand that you want to respect and honor the teachings of your ancestors—I don’t like it, given one of them ate children, but I get it. However, what you’re doing isn’t okay, Del.”
“You can’t tell me that dude didn’t deserve what happened to him. He talked like destiny had short-changed him by giving him a mate that wasn’t very feminine.”
“Which makes him an asshole, sure,” Wynter allowed. “But he’s an asshole who could kill you—that’s my issue. Dragons can exhale fire.”
Anabel let out a low whistle. “Wow, talk about death’s breath—”
“No, I don’t have the patience for your neurosis right now,” snapped Del, whipping up her hand.
“I don’t have a neurosis!”
“That’s right. You have several.”
Wynter swiped a hand through the air. “Both of you stop. Now listen to me, Del. I need you to stop selling those potions here. We’re not on the move anymore. We’re here to stay, and there are a whole lot of dangerous people in this place. Stop tempting them to kill you. God, between you and Xavier, it’ll be a sheer miracle if our crew isn’t wiped out at some point.”
“Not crew, co—”
“And I’m done.” Wynter went up to her room, packed an overnight bag, and then returned downstairs. “I’m heading out. Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Delilah saluted her. “Sure thing, Priestess.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Cain must rock in bed for you to stay with him every night.” Delilah grinned. “I’ll bet he fucks like an animal. I’m right, aren’t I? Come on, Wyn, be a sweetie and give us some details.”
“Like I’ve told you before, you’ll just have to use your imagination. Now I’m going. Behave. All of you.”
Delilah blew her a kiss. “Later, Priestess.”
“Stop it.”
*
Gathered in Cain’s ledger room, he and the other Ancients spent hours discussing battle plans, bouncing ideas back and forth until they finally settled on a particular course of action. It would involve every resident of Devil’s Cradle. Most would be part of the battle. Others would be responsible for guarding the elevator that descended to the underground city in the unlikely event that any invaders managed to enter the mansion.
If the Aeons had the ability to collapse the town and crush the city below it, they would definitely do so. But the land above and below was too well-protected by power, just as Aeon itself was. As such, the Aeons would likely order their troops to do the next best thing—overrun the town like ants, search for the entrance to the city, and destroy both.
They’d fail.
The Ancients would make sure of it.
“We each need to pass on our plans to those in our service, ensuring they all know in advance exactly where they need to be and what they need to be doing when the Aeons finally make their move,” said Cain.
He planned to convince Wynter to stay in the city and guard the lowest level of the elevator. How, he wasn’t yet sure. His witch was a warrior right down to the bone.
Seth nodded. “We should not delay in that. The Aeons could strike at any time.”
Ishtar sniffed. “I hope they do it soon. I tire of waiting.”
Dantalion leaned back in his seat. “I predict that a great many of their troops will be mercenaries. After all, the Aeons will need to feel sure that they have large enough numbers to take on our population, but they’re hardly likely to risk a large number of their own population even if they are certain of success.”
“I agree.” Azazel folded his arms. “More and more people in our service are arriving. They’re prepared to fight alongside us, even if they don’t much like it.”
That was the thing about selling your soul. If the Ancient who owned it called on you for anything, you had no choice but to obey. But that wasn’t something that the Ancients advertised, and any in their service were ordered to keep it quiet. As such, the Aeons wouldn’t be prepared for outsiders to come and join the battle.